I officially graduated from high school last Thursday, and after the fact found myself becoming nostalgic for the place I’m so eager to leave behind: the putrid yellow walls, the underclassmen who often seemed to lack basic motor skills, even the classes that bored me. Recently, I looked through my school-sanctioned yearly planners from the past four years to relive the glory days of yore and was reminded that not only did their spiral-bound pages house a comprehensive record of class schedules, assignment due dates, and important reminders, but also the evidence of my disinterest in certain subjects by way of drawings completed during said classes. As I flipped through the years, I noticed the sketches acted as barometers, measuring the many moods I experienced sitting through my least favorite courses. Behold: chameleonic art by my most bored self. (Special shoutout to the teachers whose classes elicited these pieces. Couldn’t have done it without you!)*
*Disclaimer: This post is meant to be anti-high school, not anti-teacher. Even the ones whose classes I didn’t vibe with put in an incredible amount of time and work to make them possible, and I really am thankful for the lessons each of them have taught me. Now, on with the post!
